


Just for Me

by orphan_account



Category: mine - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24092656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Uploaded so I can read on my Kindle because it's easier than on my laptop XD Please don't read :)





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Dr. Robin Locksley, specialist in immunology  
Chapter Text  
Dr. Robin Locksley, specialist in immunology  
"Dr. Mills?"  
There's concern in Proctor's voice and Regina shifts her gaze from the patient on the operating table to meet her colleague's worried eyes.  
"Are you feeling well?"  
She's not. She's been feeling tired and weak lately and it's only getting worse. Probably because she's having trouble sleeping and barely ever has any time to cook. Or eat, for that matter. She used to manage a little free time but work has now completely taken over her life.  
"Not exactly," she admits with a frown, resisting her urge to claim that she's fine.  
"Well, until you are, why don't you go wait outside?"  
Proctor's tone is firm and doesn't invite to objection, so Regina swallows her pride and steps away from the patient. Performing surgery requires a clear and focused mind – something she's currently lacking – and it's not responsible to continue.  
She heaves a sigh and pulls off her stained gloves, scrubbing out. It's one of those days. One of those days when her colleagues give her concerned looks and repeatedly asks if she's okay. One of those days when she fails to reassure them that it's nothing, she's just tired.  
She sits down on the closest bench and buries her face in her hands, feeling miserable. This is how Proctor finds her, about forty minutes later, and he settles beside her, his expression thoughtful.  
"Are you still stubbornly claiming that this is nothing?" he asks calmly, without looking at her.  
Regina sits upright and turns toward him. She feels better now but she knows she'll have to be careful when she stands up again. It's not nothing, but it's trivial. She's just a little overworked. It's no big deal. It happens when your week hours average 80 for too long.  
"This is the third time this week you've had to leave during surgery," the doctor beside her states matter-of-factly when she doesn't reply, "and the second time today."  
"I know!" she snaps, and immediately regrets her sudden outburst of irritation.  
It's not like her to lose her temper, not even the slightest. She's usually very well composed. Letting out a sigh she closes her eyes briefly.  
"I know," she says more softly. "I'm sorry, it's just that everyone keeps bugging me about it. I know I'm not tiptop at the moment but I'm really just tired. Everything else is fine."  
"So, take the night off," he offers, or rather, orders. "Go home, sleep in your own bed, no calls, and if that doesn't help you really should go see a doctor."  
He's looking at her now, steadily meeting her gaze, and there's a twinkle in his eye. She gives him a look of feigned gravity.  
"You know that I am a doctor, right?"  
"What? No way! I had no idea," he plays along. "Perhaps you could examine yourself then, or how does that work?"  
There's an authentic hint of seriousness in his voice and Regina gives him a half smile.  
"If I promise to have it checked, will you let me stay tonight and do my job?" she tries.  
He pretends to think deeply about this before shaking his head.  
"Nope, you're still going home. We'll call someone else in to cover for you," he declares and prepares to leave.  
Great, so now she's officially useless. Proctor notices her crestfallen look and turns to face her again, putting his hands reassuringly on her shoulders.  
"I don't have to give you a speech, do I? You know you're a valued member of the team, when you're not looking like you might end up next to our patient on the operating table."  
She shifts awkwardly and casts down her eyes.  
"I wouldn't have," she mumbles, barely loud enough for him to hear.  
"Anyway," he says and straightens. "See you tomorrow."  
"Goodnight."  
She watches his retreating backside, still feeling rather useless. But enough self-pitying, she admonishes, and stretches her legs and arms a bit before standing, just to be safe.  
After changing into her street clothes she exits the big trauma facility and gets into her car, deciding to make use of her extra time off to stop by Walmart on her way home. She can barely remember last time she had fresh greens in her fridge and she used to be so careful to eat properly. Tonight she will be having real dinner.  
The store is annoyingly noisy, though, and the headache she's been struggling with for the last couple of weeks strikes full force. Why does half the town seem to have had the same idea as her? The weakness makes itself known again and she wishes she had driven straight home instead.  
"Perfect," she mutters as she looks around for a place to sit down or at least get away from some of all these people. "Just perfect..."  
She heads for one of the less visited aisles but her vision is starting to get blurry and her body is becoming awfully numb. Deep breaths, she reminds herself and tightens her grip of the handle of her shopping cart. As soon as she gets to the calmer area – sewing articles, apparently – she stops and tucks her head down to help the blood flow to her brain. She curses silently in Spanish, knowing full well what's going on and what she should be doing – she is a doctor, after all – but she refuses, she's not gonna-  
"Excuse me, Ma'am, are you alright?"  
Oh, great, someone has noticed her. Can this get any worse? Well, of course it can! The concerned male voice happens to belong to an exceptionally handsome blonde and Regina gets to admire this masterful creation of God for three whole seconds before black dots start to invade her vision, reminding her that she still needs to breathe. But it's not helping. Her ears are filled with a quickly increasing buzzing noise and it's inevitable now, there's nothing she can do. She regrets looking up.  
"I'm gonna pass out," she manages to mumble out in sudden realization, and it's partly a simple statement and partly a plea for help.  
"Okay," she hears the man say somewhere far into the distance. "Why don't you sit down and-"  
Next thing she knows she's on her back, looking up at a section of multi-coloured yarn and briefly wondering how, exactly, she ended up there.  
"Welcome back."  
Regina turns her head toward the speaker and of course it's the cute blonde, half kneeling, half crouching, and keeping Regina's useless legs elevated to a considerate height above the ground.  
Oh God, this is beyond embarrassing.  
On top of everything she notices an increasing number of spectators and could she melt into a puddle and evaporate right there and then, she would.  
"What's your name?" the guy asks.  
"Regina."  
"Okay, Regina, do you have any known medical condition? Like diabetes, or-"  
"No, nothing like that," she quickly assures. "I'm fine, I'm just...tired."  
She realizes how stupid it sounds – taken that she's lying flat on the floor – and almost groans in frustration.  
"So tired you decided to take a nap in my arms? Wow, you must be really tired."  
Regina chuckles weakly and brings her hand up to cover her face. Under other circumstances she would probably be blushing but her cheeks haven't quite regained their usual colour yet.  
"I really did that, huh? I'm sorry."  
"Don't be sorry, I might just have saved you from a traumatic brain injury," the guy says with a wink.  
In other words, a concussion, Regina translates, not particularly impressed. Who talks like that anyway?  
"Are you a doctor or something?" she asks her apparent saviour, who smiles.  
"I am, actually," he confirms. "Dr. Robin Locksley, pleased to meet you, specialist in immunology and usually not doing fieldwork like this."  
"Fieldwork?" Regina snorts out. "Well, that's one way to put it. Speaking of putting, I think you can put my legs down now."  
"Are you sure?" Dr. Robin Locksley, specialist in immunology and usually not doing fieldwork like this, asks with a frown. "You're still looking pretty pale."  
"If you're complaining about my lack of a tan I'll tell you that not everyone in this area has the luxury of being able to spend all day out in the sun."  
He chuckles at this but does lower Regina's legs down and scoots closer to her face.  
"Fair enough. Work?"  
"Mhm," Regina nods.  
Work indeed. Too much of it.  
"I was not feeling well so they forced me to go home. Guess I didn't make it all the way there..."  
The man beside her gets an all serious expression and scrutinizes her from head to toe.  
"Do you have any idea of why you passed out?"  
Regina swallows visibly.  
"Well, I've only really had breakfast and a snack today," she mumbles, embarrassed. "So on top of being sleep deprived and overworked I may also have added dehydration and low blood sugar to the mix."  
"Sounds like you're aware of the stress you're putting on your body, but you're not doing anything about it," the younger doctor concludes, narrowing his eyes before he stands and grabs something from Regina's shopping cart. "Eat."  
Regina hesitantly accepts the bright red apple she's offered and slowly turns it in her hand, looking for flaws she knows aren't there. She only picked good ones.  
"I haven't paid for this yet," she points out, but starts pushing herself up to a sitting position regardless and allows the man to assist her.  
"I think they'll manage."  
"But it's still wrong. I should pay for it first."  
"Listen, Regina, you're my patient now, and as your doctor I order you to eat that apple. The sooner the better."  
Regina purses her lips, unsure of how she feels about being bossed around by someone who looks half a decade younger than herself. It's not too bad, though. Almost endearing, actually. She probably shouldn't spoil the moment by telling the younger blonde he's not the only one with a degree here.  
"Fine, Doctor Locksley," she says instead, calmly and with extra emphasis on the honorific.  
The apple tastes like forbidden fruit, wrong but delicious, and as on cue a store employee suddenly shows up. Regina chews guiltily as he approaches but the boy has a lost look on his face and barely seems old enough to be working there. When he's close enough she reads his nametag, which says 'Henry'.  
"Hi, err, what-what's going on here?" he stutters, fidgeting with his hands.  
Dr. Locksley effectively informs him what has happened and sends him to fetch some water, then he turns to the small crowd Regina is trying to pretend isn't there and tells them everything is under control and that they may continue with their shopping. Only a few curious people are reluctant to leave, the last one being an old lady claiming she used to faint all the time when she was young.  
"Turned out I was with child," she gravely discloses. "You should go have that checked up."  
The lady is just trying to help and Regina gives a restrained but polite smile.  
"Thanks for the advice. I'll...do that."  
She won't. She's not pregnant. She hasn't slept with anyone in ages, let alone a guy, and she's not having no Jesus baby.  
"Don't you worry, Ma'am, I can assure you that Regina here is in very good hands," Dr. Locksley says helpfully and emphasizes by lightly squeezing Regina's shoulders.  
"Yeah, I'm totally confident that Dr. Locksley will take good care of me," Regina nods and glances mischievously toward said doctor. "Isn't that right, doctor?"  
She's not quite sure why she felt the need to add that, but somehow the hand comment made her think of certain activities. 'Playing doctor', as it suitably happens to be called sometimes.  
The younger blonde gives her an odd look but nods as well, and the old lady finally leaves. For a minute or two they're actually alone in the aisle.  
"Very good hands?" Regina questions amusedly and continues to munch on her apple.  
"I was trying to get rid of her! By the way, there's nothing wrong with my hands. They're quite nimble, actually."  
Regina raises a quizzical brow, causing the man’s cheeks to redden slightly as he finally realizes what Regina is getting at.  
"Which is good for performing surgeries," he specifies. "Not that I'm doing a lot of that these days."  
"How come?" Regina asks, intrigued.  
She may keep the details of her own profession to herself but that doesn't mean she can't ask the immunologist about his.  
"I've been part of a diagnostic team at a hospital in New Jersey for the last three years."  
"New Jersey? That's a long way from here. What are you doing in Miami?"  
"Oh, I'm...on vacation."  
Regina doesn't question his answer, though it doesn't sound completely truthful, and before the silence gets awkward the young clerk returns with a white plastic cup of water. He hands it to her with a tentative smile and she takes a long swig of the cold liquid.  
"Are you feeling any better?"  
"Yes, thank you, I do. Henry, is it?"  
She motions toward his nametag and his smile brightens.  
"Yeah! I'm new," he explains, and fidgets with his hands again. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"  
"No, that's alright," she says and glances down at the apple snufkin in her hand. "Unless you'd like to throw this away for me? And keep quiet where it came from."  
She gives him a meaningful but not entirely serious look and he catches on and takes the piece of fruit with a goofy grin.  
"I know nothing," he promises. "Just shout out if you need me, I'll be around."  
There's an exchange of nods and smiles and then the two doctors are alone again, save for an elderly couple lurking about in the other end of the aisle. The sewing department doesn't seem to attract a lot of people. Regina downs the rest of the water and Dr. Locksley takes the cup and ditches it in the shopping cart.  
"How about we try to get you up on your feet?" he suggests and extends his hands.  
Regina accepts the help and manages to get up but she's instantly hit with another surge of dizziness and doesn't dare to let go of the guy’s hands.  
"Hey!"  
Regina looks up with a frown.  
"Hey?"  
"Just making sure you're not about to take another nap in my arms," Dr. Locksley smirks and proceeds to look the older woman deeply in the eyes. "Many people don't take fainting seriously but you look far too pale, even for a workaholic, for this to be nothing."  
"Please," Regina mutters and retracts her hands, taking hold of her shopping cart instead. "You sound like my colleagues."  
"But you know they're right, don't you? You may not be pregnant like Miss Helpful Lady implied earlier but you should let a doctor examine you, just to make sure there isn't any serious underlying condition."  
"I don't know..."  
"I'm insisting. What do you have to lose?"  
"I... I just don't like hospitals that much..."  
It's a terrible lie and Regina blushes. Jesus. Couldn't she have come up with anything better? She freaking works at a hospital.  
"Don't you have anyone that can go with you?"  
He's sincerely concerned. Dr. Robin Locksley, specialist in immunology, is sincerely concerned about her. Regina's cheeks darkens further when she realizes her lie wasn't detected.  
"Err, no," she stutters, hoping to end the questioning. "I-I haven't."  
"Well, then I'll go with you."  
And Regina stands there, dumbfounded and out of excuses, with her mouth slightly open in surprise. She didn't even consider the possibility of such an offer.  
"You'd...do that?"  
"What can I say, I'm known for going out of my way for my patients."  
Regina can relate. She sometimes grows a little too attached to her patients as well. Usually not to the point of interacting with them on her free time, though.  
"I thought you said you were on vacation?"  
The younger man winches notably but quickly regains his composure.  
"A doctor is never fully off duty," he responds cleverly.  
There's a moment of silence and then he reaches into his jacket, brings out a piece of paper, and scribbles down something on it before handing it to the older woman.  
"At least take my number. I'll be around for a while, don't know for how long, exactly, but don't hesitate to call."  
Regina smiles and accepts the note, but mostly out of politeness. She's not actually planning on calling. If only she hadn't told that stupid lie...  
"Are you going to be okay? I think my ice cream may be in a critical condition. I should hurry home and put it in the freezer before it melts away."  
Regina laughs heartily at the unexpected comment.  
"At least, if things get really bad, you know how to do CPR," she jokingly reminds the other doctor.  
"Well, I'm not sure that would actually help in this case. I'd probably just make a mess."  
"Good point."  
They both smile and Dr. Locksley crosses the aisle to pick up his shopping basket, which indeed contains a lot of ice cream and not much else.  
"Bad breakup or just a big fan of ice cream?" Regina dares ask.  
"Ah, well... A bit of both, I guess."  
"I'm sorry to hear."  
"It wasn't that bad," the younger man says with a dismissive shrug. "Plus, I appreciate everything that helps me to keep cool."  
Regina chuckles. Miami during the summer months can be rather painful, especially if you're not used to the heat and humidity.  
"You better go save that ice cream, then."  
"Yeah, I better. You're absolutely sure you're alright? I mean, if you want company..."  
He wasn't kidding with the 'going out of her way for his patients', Regina thinks, a little surprised. Technically, she's not even his patient, not really.  
"No, I'm fine," she insists and gestures toward the contents of her shopping cart. "I'm almost done anyway, so..."  
"Okay," the man simply says and takes a step in the direction of the checkout lanes. "Take care."  
"You too!"  
"And, um... I'll be waiting for that call."  
The younger blonde gives her an admonishing look before he leaves and Regina feels a bit guilty. For the small lies and for already having decided not to call. But she's a surgeon for God's sake, she doesn't need anyone to hold her hand for a simple doctor's appointment! Not that she's going. She's not sick, contrary to what everyone else seems to think. And she should know, considering her profession.  
Breathing out a sigh she looks down at the piece of paper in her hand. 'Locksley,' it says. No 'Dr' or 'Robin' or 'specialist in immunology', just the last name and then a number with an unfamiliar area code.  
"Locksley, huh?" Regina mumbles and folds the note. "You're gonna have to wait a long time for that call."  



	2. 2

Chapter 2: Locksley 551-226-3766  
Chapter Text  
Locksley 551-226-3766  
Music blaring into her ear is what wakes her up – rather ungently – the next morning. Considerably disturbed by the noise, and a bit confused why her phone is basically in her face, she picks up the call.  
"Regina Mills speaking," she greets, blinking blearily at the ceiling.  
"Did you just fall asleep on the phone?"  
She frowns. What? However, she has a feeling that she might have done just that, because she doesn't remember talking to someone when she went to bed last night.  
"Err, I-I don't know," she says uncertainly. "Who is this, anyway?"  
"It's still Chris. Deleo. We've met."  
"I know who you are, Chris..."  
"That's a relief. So you haven't been taking any drugs?"  
"What?!" she sputters. "What are you talking about?"  
Chris bursts out laughing at the other end of the line.  
"I think you might've picked up the phone in your sleep before," he explains, still chuckling. "We had a very unsatisfying conversation so I tried to check your sobriety with a joke about drugs. When you didn't respond to it I knew something was off, but look who's finally awake!"  
She feels slightly embarrassed but what's worse is that she decides to check the time and her heart almost stops. Half past six. Somehow she must also have turned off her alarm in her sleep, cause when she starts at seven she usually leaves...about now. Traffic has a tendency to be unpredictable, so she likes to play it safe. She's never been more than a few minutes late without a legitimate reason, and that was one time.  
"Oh God, work! I'm late!"  
She panics and bolts out of bed, only to crash into her bureau a few seconds later when the usual morning dizziness hits her. Standing on all fours on the floor, catching her breath, she looks around for her phone. It's undamaged, miraculously, and the call is still running. She hurries to pick up the device.  
"Sorry! I dropped the phone."  
"Dropped?" Chris says pointedly. "By all means, punish your phone, but it's not his fault you overslept."  
"Ha-ha," she mutters and slowly works herself up to a standing position. "I gotta go, pray that traffic is light today."  
"Lord, let traffic be light for Regina today. Amen."  
"Bye, Chris."  
She hangs up and slowly stands, steadying herself on the piece of furniture she previously crashed into. Her arm still hurts. Carefully, she makes her way into the bathroom to get ready, and it doesn't take long. It mustn't. After a long swig of cool water she feels considerably steadier on her feet and soon she's on her way toward work. She doesn't get stuck in traffic – though she doubts Chris' prayer has anything to do with it – and actually manages to be on time.  
"Ah, Dr. Mills! Glad you could make it."  
Proctor's voice isn't without humor.  
"I'm actually feeling pretty good today, thank you very much," she counters, although it's not entirely true.  
She's not feeling as bad as she did yesterday but 'pretty good' is a slight exaggeration.  
"Have you had breakfast yet?"  
"I, um, I didn't have time..."  
She's not too proud of it and expects disapproval from her superior, but to her surprise he simply nods.  
"Anything else than water put in your system for the last ten hours?"  
She had dinner around half past eight and declines again, starting to suspect what he's up to.  
"Good. No one needs our immediate attention at the moment and we've had a pretty calm night, so let's draw some blood before you start."  
"Seriously? You do remember that I just yesterday agreed to have it checked, right?"  
"Exactly," he says and opens a door to the right, gesturing for her to enter the empty on-call room. "That's why you're not going to argue."  
"I'm definitely going to argue," she protests. "We can't use hospital equipment on ourselves just because we're-"  
"Too busy to seek medical care elsewhere? Come on, Regina, I know you won't do it otherwise. Just sit down while I fetch the equipment and this will be over before anyone even notices you're gone."  
It annoys her, but he's probably right.  
"This is ridiculous," she mutters as she walks into the room and sits down in the chair.  
"Don't clench your fist."  
With those words Proctor leaves and Regina realizes that she's indeed clenching her fists. But she's so frustrated! Since when is she deemed unfit to make her own decisions? Well, since yesterday, apparently. With a gloomy look on her face she wills herself to relax and waits for Proctor to return. She can't believe she's actually agreeing to do this.  
A couple of minutes later he's back but the procedure then takes a bit longer than expected. For whatever reason her blood is somewhat reluctant to leave her body and she impatiently taps the fingers of her free hand against the armrest. Of course it has to be slow when they're in a hurry.  
Afterwards she feels a bit, well, drained, but the blood loss from a sample like this is negligible and she knows it's all in her head. Or, it could be because she hasn't eaten yet today. While Proctor strides away to pass on her blood to some unsuspecting lab technician Regina goes straight to one of the trauma centre’s vending machines. No more skipping breakfast, she decides, and does feel better with some food in her stomach.  
"There you are! Figures I would find you here, I bet you didn't have time for breakfast."  
It's Chris and there's no way to keep him from noticing her arm as he walks up to her.  
"Did someone poke you with a needle?" he asks and raises a brow.  
"Don't ask," she groans and then leans a bit closer to hiss in his ear. "I was forced!"  
He laughs and shakes his head at her.  
"Alright, no questions asked. But, um, work," he says meaningfully and points at the nearest clock.  
"I was just on my way."  
________________________________________  
The morning unfolds surprisingly uneventfully and by lunchtime no one – except Chris – has yet commented on Regina's arm. Out of politeness, she's sure, because the small patch she's put over the needle mark does little to cover the prominent bruising in the area.  
Lunch for Regina and her colleagues is generally a quick business, consisting of not so much traditional lunching as grabbing a power bar, sitting down for a few minutes, and combining filling out charts with discussing current patients. There are exceptions, of course, and today seems to be one of them. Not only has Regina real food with her, but Chris, Serena, and Tuck are sitting together, definitely not talking about work. Instead, they are looking very interested in something lying on the table. Regina joins them after heating leftovers from yesterday's dinner in the microwave, crossing her fingers she'll have time to eat it.  
"Hey, what's up?"  
She has barely voiced her question before she knows the answer, seeing what the thing lying on the table is. Her stomach makes an odd twist.  
"This," Chris says intently, and reads out loud from the piece of paper he's holding up between them. "Locksley, 551-226-3766. I just found it in the locker room but it's neither Serena's nor Tuck's."  
It must've fallen out of her pocket this morning.  
"It's mine," Regina hears herself say.  
All eyes turn to her and she focuses on her food so hard it might just catch fire. She shouldn't have said anything. Why did she say it was hers? Now they are going to ask questions.  
"Is it a patient?"  
Chris makes it sound like she wouldn't be able to get any other kind of number and Regina almost feels offended.  
"Why would I have a patient's number?" she asks with a frown. "No, we met at Walmart."  
By the astonished looks the others are giving her she can tell they are getting this all wrong.  
"It's not what you think," she explains between bites.  
"Really now?"  
"Really. And I'm not gonna call, so you can..."  
She wants to tell Chris he can toss it in the trash but somehow that evokes inner pictures of herself rummaging through the hospital's garbage bins. But she isn't going to call, right? She doesn't need the number.  
"You can do whatever you want with it," she settles on.  
"And what would I want to do with a guy's number?"  
"What makes you think it's a guy?"  
"Because you're acting all funny, Regina, and I have an eye for these types of things."  
"Like that time you told me literally everything I did was flirting, no matter if I was looking at you or not?"  
Chris feigns hurt and Tuck and Serena grins at him.  
"Yeah, how's that going Chris?" Serena asks. "There's a lot of people waiting for that to happen."  
"Well, you know..."  
"I'm right here," Regina reminds them.  
It still bugs her a little that people are actually betting on whether she and Chris will sleep together, but she must admit she also finds it a bit amusing. Chris is probably the one who himself started it somehow. It's totally something he would do and he's always been a little more interested in her than she's in him. They have a great friendship, though, and she wouldn't trade it for the world.  
Their pagers beep and Regina is out of her seat in a heartbeat, putting the lid back onto the plastic jar containing her half eaten lunch. She places it in the fridge and is the first among her friends to exit the room.  
"Regina, your date!"  
She doesn't look back but imagines Chris waving the note in the air with a goofy grin. He catches up with her within a few steps.  
"Are you seriously not gonna call? I can tell you want to."  
He can tell, huh? If she's completely honest with herself she would like to see Locksley again, but she just doesn't see it happening.  
"Yeah, but it doesn't matter," she mutters, her heart rate increasing a bit with the confession.  
"Err, of course it does! If someone gives you their number it means they want you to call. It's not rocket science."  
"You don't know the circumstances," she argues.  
Yesterday, at the supermarket... Locksley only did what any other decent human being would have done, and – frankly – his job. 'Don't hesitate to call' wasn't an invitation to ask her out, but simply a doctor caring about a patient. And Regina doesn't actually need his help.  
Unfortunately, she can't tell Chris what really happened last evening, cause then he'll get all concerned again and she doesn't want to be treated like some weakling. It's bad enough as it is, with Proctor making decisions over her head.  
"Then tell me!" Chris insists. "I'm all ears."  
"I bet you are but let's focus on work now, okay? We have incoming in three minutes."  
"Alright, but I'll keep the number in case you change your mind," he declares.  
She gives him an eye roll and he grins back at her.  
"Of course you will."  
________________________________________  
She's in the locker room that evening, changing into her street clothes, when a tired looking Serena walks in. The first-year resident's eyes immediately widen when she sees her older colleague.  
"Wow, Regina, what did you do?"  
Regina turns around with her t-shirt in her hands, initially confused by the blonde's reaction.  
"What did I...?"  
"Are you turning into a Smurf or something?"  
She understands then, she thinks, since the bend of her left arm is indeed pretty blue. Well, purple. It surprises her, though, that the younger woman doesn't seem to have noticed until now.  
"Oh, that. I had a blood test."  
"Yeah, well, that I figured," Serena says as she undresses. "I meant the other ones."  
The other ones? Regina takes a closer look at herself, and in addition to where the needle went in there are also bruises on the back of her shoulder, upper arm, and elbow. She quickly puts on her shirt to cover at least some of the evidence of her morning drama.  
"I kinda fell into my bureau," she mumbles, gathering her things.  
"You fell into your bureau?" Serena repeats with disbelief in her voice.  
"Clumsy, right?" Regina chuckles awkwardly.  
She closes her locker, mildly uncomfortable under the resident's searching gaze, but what else is she supposed to say? This is the truth. Mainly.  
"If you say so," the younger woman accepts her explanation, thankfully dropping the subject. "Drive safe and I'll see you tomorrow?"  
"Yeah, same. See you!"  
Regina gives a weak smile, wishing she didn't have to be back there in twelve hours. She exits the locker room and almost bumps into Proctor.  
"Mills!" he greets, and she can't quite make out his tone. "May I speak with you?"  
"Sure," she agrees, suddenly anxious.  
He leads her into an empty on-call room – not the same as in the morning, though – and there's no chair so they both sit down on the bed. She can only assume this is about the test results.  
"So, am I dying or...?" she jokes, but her smile falters when he doesn't immediately catch on.  
"I think you should go get checked properly and have some more tests done," he says firmly.  
Regina's stomach drops. She wouldn't need further testing if everything looked fine. And he didn't deny it, she realizes. He didn't tell her she wouldn't die. The silence is deafening.  
"At least, you need to retake your serum potassium. Everything else is within the normal range, so it may be false hyperkalaemia. Or, if you binged on bananas yesterday, that would explain it, too."  
Proctor says the last part with humour and Regina retorts with a squint and mock condescension.  
"I prefer apples."  
The man beside her is quiet for just a little too long, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.  
"Right," he says then, and she can't help to feel as if she's missing something. "So, back to the test results."  
"Can I see them?" she requests.  
He hands over a printed version of the results and she reads as he speaks.  
"I suspected a deficiency of iron, B12, or possibly folate, but as you can see there's none of that. It's really only your high potassium that calls for concern. But as I said, it could be a false result. Perhaps you did clench your fist after all."  
"I don't think so," she mumbles and puts her index finger under a number on the paper. "And while this is still within the normal range it's definitely in the upper region. Both BUN and creatinine are. There could be something wrong with my kidneys, or the beginning of it."  
"Yes, I agree. That's why I'm suggesting further investigation. Do you want to setup the appointment yourself or should I refer you?"  
"I can-" she begins, but quickly cuts herself off as she recalls Locksley's offer. "I, uh..."  
Maybe, just maybe... But she can't refer herself, then, not if she isn't planning on telling the younger man about her profession. And she isn't, because that would make it all very inconvenient. Locksley would wonder what the hell Regina needs him there for, why she lied in the first place, and it would be awkward and probably end badly. On the other hand, faking a hospital fear is probably not a very good idea either. Perhaps she should just forget about seeing the man ever again.  
"Don't worry, I'll take care of it," Proctor decides and pats Regina's shoulder lightly, right on one of her bruises.  
She waited too long with her answer.  
"Thank you," she says and forces a smile.  
She'll simply have to decide about Locksley later.  
________________________________________  
Regina sits down in her kitchen, exhausted as always. This evening a bit more than usual, from the somewhat unsettling news. If there only was someone who could make her dinner, or even heat leftovers in the microwave. The seven feet to the fridge seem endless.  
Resting her forehead on the table, she wonders how in the world she's supposed to make it to her bed, which is located in the other end of her apartment. The headache is back and she can't motivate herself to sit up straight, or even open her eyes. In fact, she can't motivate herself to do anything. It's like gravitation is suddenly affecting her with double force, making it impossible for her to move at all. Her stomach is aching, too, and a few hours ago she would've explained it away as improper food intake during the day. Now, after learning the results of her blood test, she's not so sure. Maybe there really is something wrong with her.  
A few minutes later she catches herself trying to remember Locksley's number. She's not sure what's more frustrating, the fact that she wants to call, or that she's only sure of the area code and the last two sixes. She did study the piece of paper pretty closely the night before. Not that anyone needs to know.  
Unable to cope, she forces herself upright and grabs her phone. She tries not to be too obvious in her reluctant message to Chris.  
/So, how's it going with you and Locksley? ;)/  
The reply comes almost immediately and she blushes slightly at the text, not any less frustrated than before.  
/Regretting you let go of the number, huh? I knew you would come around :p/  
So much for trying to be subtle.  
/No, I'm not regretting anything. I was simply trying to make a joke.../  
It's a lie, of course.  
/Then you wouldn't be upset if I, let's say, told you I had lost the number?/  
That's...it's only hypothetical, right? He's just testing her.  
/Nope/  
/Phew! But don't worry, I'm sure your soulmate is out there somewhere, just dying to find you ;)/  
She fidgets with her phone, unable to figure out if he's serious or not. This is not going according to plan. Then, of course, she didn't have much of a plan to begin with.  
/Sooo, you really have lost the number? Doesn't sound like you./  
She just has to know.  
When ten minutes have passed without a reply, she gives up, only to get the brilliant idea that she can search for the number online. How many Robin Locksleys can there be? Feeling a bit silly, almost guilty, she browses through various sites until she finds one which displays the phone numbers for free. There are 18 matches and she scrolls through them with anticipation, hoping Locksley will be among them. Hoping she spelled the name right. Hoping there will be a familiar number on the list.  
And.  
There is. It's just that this Locksley has a Miami address, not that far from Regina's own apartment. Who changes their address for a vacation? Unless it's not really a vacation?  
She decides that she can't call, not when the younger man seems to be there to stay. She feels oddly disappointed, but at the same time relieved that she doesn't have to make the call. Then she gets a reply from Chris, finally, and groans at the ten digit number he just sent her. He hadn't lost it. A second text arrives shortly after the first one.  
/Sorry, I was in the shower. Hope the suspension didn't kill you :p/  
/I just found out we're almost neighbours, so NO I'm definitely not calling! And don't try to convince me otherwise!/  
She doesn't care what he will think anymore, she just wants him to stop coaxing her into doing something she finds highly inadvisable.  
/You have a strange way of reasoning, Regina. And damn, you found your inner stalker! That's really something. But yet, you're still adamantly refusing to call?/  
/Yes. Night C/  
She uses the small surge of evoked irritation to rise from her kitchen chair and get ready for bed – because, screw food, she can eat tomorrow – and just when she has climbed under the covers her phone notifies her of a new message. Presumably from Chris, so she doesn't bother to check it. It's probably just more coaxing or a simple goodnight.  
Then it rings.  
"Yeah, Chris?" she sighs into the phone, and there's a moment of silence before a confused voice greets her.  
"Uh, hi. This is...this is Locksley."  
Regina's eyes shoot open. Did she mishear? She quickly glances at the screen of her phone but it really is the man calling.  
"Um," is the only thing Regina manages to get out.  
"You know, from yesterday? At Walmart?" Locksley tries, sounding a bit tentative. "Or is this not Regina?"  
"Yes, yes it is. I remember. Uh..."  
Regina's still struggling for words. She didn't expect this call so she's not at all prepared for it. For heaven's sake, she just definitely decided not to call! It feels unreal. That is, until she starts to suspect who's been meddling.  
"How did you get my number?" she questions and it comes out a bit harsher than she intends it to.  
"I, eh, got your friend's message," Locksley says with uncertainty. "It seemed a bit odd but I thought I'd give you a ring anyway. I hope I'm not bothering you?"  
Regina is going to kill him! Is he completely out of his mind? How is she supposed to get out of this sticky situation? What should she say to Locksley? She's utterly frustrated, but at the same time, it's really nice to hear the man's voice again. Chris knows she never would've called on her own, so he gave her a small – well, actually not that small – push in the right direction. That sneaky bastard.  
"You're not bothering me," Regina assures the younger man. "Well, I'm getting ready for bed but it's okay. I just...wasn't expecting you to call."  
"Right away? Yeah, sorry, maybe I should've waited till tomorrow. I was curious, though, if you had decided to go to the doc, after all."  
Well, shit. What did Chris tell the guy, exactly? Regina tries to keep herself calm.  
"Oh," she says. "About that... I actually did have a blood test done today, my boss made me, and I need to go back for more tests."  
"Wow, that's some fast acting right there. Did it go okay? When are you going back?"  
"Yes, it did, and I don't know yet," Regina answers both questions truthfully.  
Somehow she must find a way to come clean and tell the man that the hospital fear only was something she made up in the heat of the moment. Why does it feel so difficult? It's no big deal. Locksley lied too, he's obviously not on vacation.  
"Well, my offer still stands, if you'd like some company," the younger man declares. "From someone other than your friend."  
"He doesn't know," Regina hurries to say. "I don't want him to know. I mean, I couldn't hide my arm today at work but he doesn't know."  
"That's okay. You decide who you want to tell."  
"Yeah, I know," Regina mumbles.  
It doesn't help that Locksley is so painfully understanding and supportive to everything she says. The younger man is constantly throwing her off guard.  
"So, does that mean you want me to come with you? Or would you rather go on your own? Because really, it's no trouble for me."  
Did she mention how heartbreakingly adorable this man also is? Saying no is becoming harder and harder the longer they speak. Regina really should set things straight as soon as possible. Maybe they could still meet? Yeah, because that's so likely. She's trapped between two – in her opinion – equally bad alternatives.  
"I, um..." she begins hesitantly. "I don't know..."  
"You don't need to decide now. You can think about it, and if you do want some support, just let me know. I don't plan very far ahead these days."  
"Okay," Regina says breathlessly, thankful to have some more time to think this through.  
"Great! So, I'm gonna let you sleep now. Again, sorry for calling a bit late."  
"No need to apologize, it's just me who went to bed early."  
It's barely past eight.  
"Alright. Have a good night's sleep, then."  
"Yeah, thanks. Goodnight."  
The call gets disconnected and Regina closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Chris is so going to pay for this.  



	3. 3

Chapter 3: Blonde Saviour  
Blonde Saviour

Regina immediately wakes up in much the same manner, except she's also soaked from sweat and possibly even more exhausted than when she went to bed. A glance over at her nightstand informs her that she has about three hours left until it's time to get up. Up. The mere thought of being in a vertical position causes her body to scream in protest. But in three hours, maybe she'll feel better. She has to go to work. Just one more workday, then she'll have the weekend free. For once.  
Going back to sleep, however, is pretty hard when her head is pounding and she's feeling overall unwell. She changes into dry nightwear and if nothing else, she's at least more comfortable.  
The next time she opens her eyes it's to her alarm, and very reluctantly. Her mouth is a desert and there's an empty hole where her stomach should be. Breakfast in bed wouldn't have been too bad, but that kind of luxury is not for her. With disgruntled mutters she basically crawls out of bed – not making the same mistake as the previous morning – and slowly drags her feet across the hall and into her kitchen. She's incredibly weak. Maybe she shouldn't have skipped dinner yesterday.  
Locksley called.  
A faint smile lightens Regina's otherwise anguished expression as she thinks of their brief conversion the night before. She starts her day with a big scoop of ice cream, just because. The younger man seemed to have a thing for the chilly dessert, when they met. It's a terribly unhealthy way to start the day, of course, but the sugar works itself quickly into her system and gives her the energy boost she needs to prepare something more nutritious.  
She arrives at work with time to spare and it just so happens that Chris is the only person in the locker room when she gets there.  
"You fool!" she chides him, and he greets her with a wide grin.  
"Good morning to you too, Regina. So I'm guessing he did call?"  
"Yes! He called!"  
Serena, who's just walked in, picks up on their conversation.  
"The Walmart guy?" she wonders, clearly amused. "What happened?"  
"I kind of encouraged him to call Regina," Chris replies sheepishly and turns back toward the brunette. "I didn't know... Err, I hope I didn't cause you any trouble?"  
"Well, that depends on your definition of trouble," Regina retorts and walks past him to get changed. "What did you tell him, more specifically?"  
"I just sent a text suggesting him to call you because you had this idea that you couldn't, then I added your number. I realize now, in hindsight, that I may not have thought it through properly."  
"May not have? You're supposed to be an adult! Maybe it's time you start acting like one."  
"Okay, I didn't think it through," he admits, his eyes and face averted to give his two female colleagues a bit of privacy. "But hey, I'm not the one who's been fussing over a simple call."  
A simple call? Bah, hardly! Regina ignores him and carries on with getting appropriately dressed for work. When she's done she notices Serena's intrigued expression in the corner of her eye.  
"So, this guy," the one-year-resident begins. "How come you got his number in the first place? I mean, nothing wrong with a little casual grocery shop flirting, but I must admit I rarely get any actual numbers from it."  
It's as suggestive as it can be and Regina smirks, despite herself.  
"You know, the possibility of us all being late is increasing every minute," she points out and leads the way out of the locker room. "And just to make this clear, while these details are by no means secret, I'd appreciate if they don't spread like wildfire across the hospital right away."  
"Of course," Serena and Chris say in unison.  
They walk in silence for some time and Regina almost thinks the discussion is over, but she's not getting away that easily.  
"So tell me, Regina, what's your definition of trouble?" Chris wants to know.  
She heaves a sigh, deciding she might as well continue telling the truth.  
"My definition of trouble is that Locksley is an immunologist – yes, he was very specific – and he thinks I'm some hapless lady needing moral support for my doctor's appointment due to an irrational fear of hospitals."  
Regina groans when she sees Chris and Serena's raised brows.  
"Okay, that sounded even more ridiculous out loud than in my head. I don't know what to tell him!"  
"But why would he think that?" Chris questions, frowning down at her. "Do you have a doctor's appointment?"  
"I will have," she quietly admits.  
There, she said it.  
"Are you sick?" Serena asks with concern in her voice. "Was the blood test not alright?"  
"I just need to double check a couple of things, it's probably nothing," Regina shrugs it off.  
"Probably?" Chris questions pointedly.  
"Yes, probably. Please don't treat me any differently because of this, Proctor is already starting to get on my nerves! I'm quite alright."  
"It's good to hear you're appreciating my help," comes sarcastically from behind a corner, and Proctor emerges.  
"I didn't say I wasn't," Regina quickly amends, blushing slightly.  
"I know," he smirks and walks past them, stopping to call over his shoulder. "Oh, by the way. Your appointment is nine sharp on Wednesday morning. Twelve hours of fasting."  
He's gone as swiftly as he appeared and Regina's cheeks darken further. Serena offers a sympathetic smile while Chris pats her back brotherly.  
"I get what you mean," he says and gives her a knowing look. "We'll be our normal selves, I promise."  
________________________________________  
Regina stares at her phone's bright display. She's curled up on her couch and allows herself to hesitate for just one more minute. Proctor chose a day when she's only scheduled for the night, so apart from showing up for her appointment there's nothing she needs to do. Truth to be told, she's a bit nervous, but mostly because of what these new results may show. And, because of Locksley.  
Locksley.  
Regina swipes the name on the contact list and presses the phone to her ear with her heart thumping inconveniently loud in her chest. She's finally made up her mind and decided to be honest with the other man. It's the right thing to do. If she's really lucky, Locksley will still be curious about the results, and if not meet, maybe they can keep contact over the phone. Then Regina will at least get to hear his voice a few more times.  
"Hi!"  
It's overly cheerful and Regina is thrown off again.  
"Hi, this is Regina," she says awkwardly, her cheeks hot when Locksley chuckles softly at the other end of the line.  
"Yeah, my phone gave me a heads up. How are you?"  
"I'm alright," Regina replies with forced cool, despite her inner agitation. "How are you?"  
Why can't she just be her normal confident self? Chris was right. She's been fussing over a simple call and now she's doing it again. Simple. This is simple. She just needs to get a grip, because seriously, she barely just met the guy!  
"Well, I've spent the last few days chilling out and eating ice cream, so I don't think I'm allowed to complain."  
Regina smiles. She likes to keep busy and even now, during these past weeks of decreasing energy levels, she would probably go crazy after more than a few days of inactivity. Suddenly it strikes her, though, that Locksley is getting over a breakup. Sort of, at least. Regina has been so focused on her own problems that she's forgotten about the other man's.  
"But if you were allowed to complain? What would you complain about?"  
Locksley is quiet for a moment and Regina anxiously awaits his answer. Maybe she shouldn't have asked. But she's genuinely curious, and probably just overthinking it all.  
"Honestly? I'm kind of bored."  
Perhaps they aren't that different after all, Regina thinks. Besides, this is good news. Bored is good. Then  
"But I guess you didn't call just to hear about my uneventful day, did you?"  
Regina gulps. It's time.  
"Well, I've got a date and time for my appointment," she says and draws in a deep breath. "But I don't exactly need anyone to go with me. I mean, I wouldn't mind your company, but I don't... I'm not... I'm fine with hospitals, actually."  
She groans internally at her awkward babble. Your company?! And what's with the stuttering? Very convincing. Locksley, however, surprisingly doesn't even comment on it.  
"When is the appointment?" he asks instead.  
"Nine am on Wednesday."  
"That works for me. Where do you want to meet?"  
Regina's mind goes blank. Where does she want to meet? Locksley still wants to meet her? She's going to see Locksley again?  
Apparently so.  
"I-I guess at the clinic? It's, um, I can text you the address."  
"Sounds great! So, what-"  
There's a sudden onset of loud and shrill beeping and Regina hears rustling and a steady stream of swear words coming from her phone.  
"I'm sorry, I gotta go," Locksley says hastily and swears some more under his breath. "See you on Wednesday!"  
"Yeah, alright," Regina replies confusedly, wondering what's going on. "See you..."  
The line quiets and she looks at the ended call for a moment, her thoughts still on the man. Was that a fire alarm? She sends the address, which she got from Proctor earlier, and drags herself into the kitchen to make dinner. Fifteen minutes later, her question is answered.  
/Perfect! Btw, in case you were wondering, I didn't burn the place down, but my neighbors probably hate me right now. Took me forever to turn that stupid thing off!/  
Regina smirks and starts typing a reply, only to erase it a moment later. After several attempts to write something even remotely witty she gives up and settles on a simple "Better luck next time!" Then she debates with herself whether or not she should add a smiley face – and if yes, which one? – until she gets tired of her own indecisiveness and just sends it already.  
Locksley obviously isn't as tongue-tied, because his reply comes within a minute.  
/Yes, next time I'll turn it off immediately ;)/  
Regina wants to write back but she doesn't know what to say, so she puts her phone away and tries to focus on her cooking. She'd rather not trigger her own smoke detector. Locksley probably isn't expecting an answer anyway.  
Or is he?  
Regina picks up her phone again and rereads the message. No, it doesn't require a reply. But what if the younger man is still expecting one? He's, what, twenty-five? Twenty-seven? Maybe there are texting rules Regina doesn't know about. Serena would know what to do, but she can't call the first-year-resident just to ask for texting advice, that's beyond ridiculous. She's probably just overthinking again. And she's not focusing on her cooking!  
She doesn't burn the food, thankfully, but when she eats a little while later she realizes she's completely forgotten to add salt. It may or may not have been because she was too distracted by thoughts of a certain immunologist...  
Dammit, what is this guy doing to her?  
________________________________________  
The weekend proceeds without a hitch, and so does Monday and Tuesday. Regina is tired, of course, and deals with the usual feeling of being slightly unwell. Nothing out of the ordinary. Wednesday morning arrives, and she curses fasting blood tests. Like she wasn't weak enough already. She makes sure to at least be well hydrated and to bring some fruit with her.  
When she gets to the clinic Locksley isn't there yet, so she sits down in the small waiting room and rests her head against the wall. She's been better.  
"Regina?"  
She looks up, but there's no way... It can't be. It simply can't, and she needs to wake up right this moment.  
"Are you okay?"  
She's acutely aware of the gentle hand on her shoulder and forces herself to respond.  
"Mhm," she nods, and Locksley smiles and sits down next to her.  
"Are you absolutely sure you're alright?" He insists, causing Regina's eyes to shoot open as her train of thought is interrupted.  
"Mhm," she says again and swallows thickly, flustered by her inability to form full sentences.  
She dares a quick glance at the young blonde, who's looking genuinely concerned.  
"I'm not scared," Regina asserts and looks away, trying not to show her sudden embarrassment. "I'm perfectly fine being here."  
"Okay," Locksley says softly, and it doesn't take more than two brain cells to figure out that he doesn't believe Regina.  
Fantastic. So that was why he agreed to come anyway, he thought Regina was just embarrassed about her fears. Her fears, which in reality don't involve hospitals, clinics, or doctors whatsoever. The only thing she's afraid of, really, is to detect a terminal illness. Also, that Locksley will react badly when he – for sure this time – learns the truth.  
Regina swallows again and reluctantly turns her head toward the nothing but well-meaning man on her left. The blue eyes that gaze back at her are so kind and non-judgemental, and Regina's words get caught in her throat. What if that gentle expression turns into one of anger? Or worse, disgust? Decidedly, Locksley doesn't seem like the kind of person who would react in any of those ways to what she has to say, but what if?  
Regina whines internally. This would've been so much easier if she'd eaten. She's not in the mood for dealing with any kind of trouble right now. But perhaps she's just making a mountain out of a molehill – for probably the umpteenth time – and should just get it over with.  
"I'm sorry," she begins apologetically, "but I really don't-"  
"Regina Mills?"  
Flustered, Regina snaps her head around to the doctor who's just inadvertently interrupted her important revelation. He appears to be in late middle age, with olive skin and grey hair, and despite his untimeliness she immediately likes him. Locksley gets up beside her and Regina quickly follows suit, and while they approach the older doctor she decides to clear up her and Locksley's misunderstanding as soon as the opportunity arises. Then, she has to focus all her attention on walking, and keeping her balance in general. She shouldn't have jumped up like that, of course she shouldn't. What was she thinking? It's not like she can sit down again now, because they are right in the middle of crossing the room. No, all she can do is slow down a little, breathe, and hope that the dizzy spell passes undramatically.  
She's not sure who moves closer to whom, but her and Locksley's shoulders suddenly brush against each other. It's rather comforting, knowing that there's someone right there beside her, especially since her vision has gone black and the buzzing in her ears is alarmingly loud. Somewhere in the back of her mind she's aware that she stops walking and fumbles for something to steady herself on. Her body feels awfully heavy and all she can think of is that she must keep her legs straight, she can't buckle her knees. She absolutely cannot lose her balance, or she'll be damned.  
Then her heart starts thumping like a galloping draft horse in her chest, finally catching up with the drop in blood pressure. She's once again in control of her breathing and resume taking deep breaths, the oxygen boost much needed. Her hearing and vision almost instantly returns and she becomes aware that she's clutching Locksley's jacket like her life depends on it. The blonde is standing in front of Regina with her shoulders in a solid grip, firmly calling her name.  
"Yes. Yes, I'm fine," Regina claims, retracting her hands.  
She throws a quick glance around the waiting room, noticing a fair amount of curious gazes. Oh, how great.  
"I'm fine, let's just...get this over with," she mumbles, motioning toward the doctor she's supposed to visit and wishing for this horrible morning to end as soon as possible.  
Why does Locksley have to be around during her most embarrassing moments? Why not her good moments? There's plenty of those. Plenty. The blonde frowns at her, still looking concerned, but lets go of her shoulders, allowing her to move forward. Regina doesn't miss the protective hand that's placed on her back and kept there until they've entered the examination room.  
"Welcome!" the male doctor greets after closing the door behind them. "I am Dr. De La Rosa."  
He extends his hand, and Regina and Locksley shake it as they introduce themselves, then he looks searchingly at Regina and asks if she's okay, causing her to blush profoundly.  
"Yes, I am, thanks," she assures him.  
"Good to hear. If you have any questions or concerns at all, please do tell. Would you like some water?"  
She nods and makes a mental note never to lie again, no matter how small and harmless the lie may seem at a first glance. They sit down and she gets her water, which she politely sips on. At this point, perhaps it's best to just play along, because a surgeon bringing moral support to a simple check-up would no doubt be frowned upon. What was she even thinking when she said she didn't mind Locksley's company? Clearly a desperate move to get to see him again, which succeeded, but the encouraging smiles Regina receives from the blonde makes her feel like the biggest fraud ever. He better enjoy their time together, though, because when they leave this room that may be the end of it.  
Dr. De La Rosa begins with the physical exam, simultaneously asking questions. When he asks about Regina's weight, she's not sure what to reply, since she's never had to bother too much about it and hasn't weighed herself in ages. She tells the last number she remembers and Dr. De La Rosa gives her a thoughtful look before directing her to the scale. The device informs her that she's lost a few pounds, well, quite a few, actually. It's honestly not that surprising, considering her food habits lately, but seems somewhat out of proportion. She's not been starving herself, far from it. The weight loss is completely unintentional and she certainly didn't need it, she was fine before.  
"Are you eating well?"  
Blushing, Regina admits that she actually hasn't for some time, only for the latest few days. The Walmart incident provoked a change and she's made greater effort with her meals since then. However, the results of her latest blood test show that at least a few deficiencies can be excluded, so she makes sure to inform both Locksley and Dr. De La Rosa about that. The older doctor hums and continues to ask questions about her symptoms.  
Soon he moves on to measure her blood pressure, which proves to be pretty low. She doesn't know what she expected, really, because she's obviously been suffering from drops in blood pressure from time to time – like in the waiting room just a few minutes ago – and yet, it would normally be high if her problems were caused by stress and overworking.  
"Will you stand up, please?"  
Regina gulps but does as instructed, hoping it'll go better this time. It does, she's able to see the whole time, but there is the familiar buzzing in her ears and a general jelly feeling in her limbs. Dr. De La Rosa keeps a close eye on her while he measures her blood pressure again, twice, with a few minutes between the checks.  
"You don't fully qualify for something called orthostatic hypotension, but it's just barely. This means that your body is not responding appropriately to postural changes, so that, for instance, standing up too quickly may cause dizziness and even fainting. You've probably already noticed this and it's important to be careful so you don't hurt yourself."  
Yeah... The bruises are fading, at least.  
As she sits down again she dares a glance at Locksley, who's gaze is suddenly very intense. Regina can't quite read it, and finds herself unable to look away. It's the blonde who, eventually, breaks eye contact, and Regina's not sure what just happened. No one's ever looked at her that way before.  
But there's no time to ponder about that, because they're nearing the end of the appointment and only have one more thing left to do. Regina's right, unbruised arm is used for this blood sample and the procedure doesn't take quite as long as last time. She curiously watches her arm, rather fascinated by the fact that the crimson liquid filling the vials is actually her own. Usually, she only gets to see other people's blood.  
"Um," comes tentatively from her left, accompanied with a nudge to her arm. "Maybe you shouldn't watch?"  
"Right," Regina says awkwardly, forcing a smile toward the younger man, and avoids to look at her arm for the remainder of the procedure.  
She feels as if her heart is blackening for every untrue action and she's glad it's just for a few more minutes. Checking her health status was supposed to be a small, pointless thing and then she met Locksley and her potassium levels were off and everything just...got messy.  
When the required amount of blood is drawn, Dr. De La Rosa tapes a gauge to the puncture site and instructs Regina to keep it on for at least fifteen minutes. She nods as if she hasn't herself been dealing with an uncountable number of wounds. Fatal wounds, incomparable to this tiny mark.  
"Well, that's all for now," he declares, labelling the blood tubes. "The results may take up to a week, or sometimes longer, but I'll try to get back to you soon. Until then, just try to take it easy. Okay?"  
"Okay," Regina nods and slowly scoots to the edge of her seat, deciding to start right there and then.  
"Perhaps you should try movies and ice cream in bed, too," Locksley suggests jokingly, leaning closer to Regina with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "Then I wouldn't feel so alone..."  
Regina rolls her eyes but can't help to smirk at the blonde. He's hardly alone, there ought to be tons of people in Miami with the same hobbies as him. It's still remarkable, though, that the chilly dessert has been brought up nearly all the times they've talked.  
"What is your obsession with ice cream?"  
Locksley chuckles and offers Regina his hand, a hand which the brunette accepts after only a millisecond of hesitance and then has every intention to hold on to for as long as possible. Well, for as long as it's convenient, at least, but Locksley's support is actually helpful as Regina stands up. Not that she couldn't have managed without it. She got up nice and slow this time.  
"I don't have an obsession with ice cream," Locksley claims, his tone still playful. "In case you've forgotten, I need it to keep cool in your heat."  
"Ah, yes, we wouldn't want you to get overheated, now would we?" Regina teases, and then blushes when she sees the unmistakable look Dr. De La Rosa gives them.  
Isn't it typical? Just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, there must of course be yet another string added to the web of misunderstandings. She does feel a connection with Locksley, but that's all in her head. Right? Or what if it isn't, what if everyone else can see what she's feeling? What if she's that transparent? She immediately drops Locksley's hand and tries to put on a neutral face as she grabs her purse from where it hangs on the back of her chair.  
They are out of the room within seconds and Regina regrets rushing out the very moment the door closes behind them. This is it. This is possibly – but hopefully not – their last moments together, and she's nervous and reluctant and really really hungry. The red apple she brought is quickly dug up from her purse and Locksley lets out an amused puff or air through his nose.  
"Is this the moment I'm supposed to ask you about your 'apple obsession'?"  
"I don't have an-"  
Regina quickly shuts her mouth and purses her lips. Very well, one point to Locksley.  
They exit the building and the warm weather outside is a great contrast to the air-conditioned clinic. Regina resists the urge to tease back, she has more important revelations to make, but Locksley is faster.  
"So," he drawls out. "Any plans for the rest of the day?"  
Plans?  
"Uh, no, no plans," Regina falters, thrown off by the question. "Well, except that I should try to get some rest, I have work tonight."  
Locksley's brows furrow and he shifts position so that he's fully facing Regina.  
"You're working nights while feeling like this?"  
"It's not like I have much of a choice," Regina says defensively. "It's my job. I'm needed."  
"And if you were to be sick?"  
"They'd call in someone else, but I'm hardly ever sick and that's not gonna change just because of this stupid thing I may have," she firmly asserts.  
Locksley tilts his head and smirks knowingly.  
"It appears I was right," he says, satisfied with his own perceptiveness. "Don't I know a workaholic when I see one."  
Regina folds her arms across her chest and scowls at the blonde, but doesn't argue. She knows it's at least somewhat true, because even if she didn't have to work this much, she probably still would.  
"What do you work with, anyway?"  
It's the dreaded question and Regina swallows thickly, not meeting Locksley's gaze. Despite her current stance she feels incredibly vulnerable, and she knows that she waits for way too long to give her answer.  
"I'm a trauma surgeon."  



	4. 4

Chapter 4: "I only caught español"Chapter Text  
"I only caught español"  
"A surgeon?"  
Locksley looks perplexed and squints at Regina, who unfolds her arms and starts to fidget with her hands.  
"Yeah..." she says, awkwardly shifting her weight. "I should've told you sooner, but I tried, and... Well..."  
"So when you said you weren't scared, you actually meant it."  
It's not a question, just a realization, and Regina confirms it with a silent nod and an apologetic smile. She's not sure how Locksley will react so she tries to be prepared for anything, but when the blonde starts laughing, she's taken by surprise, nonetheless. It's not a mocking or spiteful laugh, more like a soft chuckle, but Regina still blushes faintly.  
"Wow, I feel pretty stupid now," Locksley admits, adding to Regina's guilt.  
"I'm sorry," Regina says apologetically. "I never meant for it to get this far."  
Things like this surely don't happen to people who 'act like adults'. She should practise what she preaches.  
"Well, you know, if you didn't want me to come along you could've just told me so," the blonde points out with a small smile. "But I got the impression you did want me here, and... I guess I'm just a bit confused."  
Regina's cheeks turn a whole new shade of red, almost matching the apple she promptly takes another bite from to win more time to think of a reply. But it doesn't really matter what she says now, does it? She should just bid the blonde goodbye, go home, and forget all about-  
"I bet you're really hungry," the blonde says, as if that alone would explain Regina's odd behavior and lack of answers. "What do you say about continuing this conversion over breakfast?"  
For a second Regina's mind is completely blank, then she slowly comprehends that the man of her dreams just asked her out for breakfast. Cause that's what he did, right? Or maybe not...asked her out. Maybe that's just wishful thinking on Regina's part.  
"I actually have a confession to make, too," Locksley admits.  
He doesn't reveal any further details and if it's supposed to make Regina curious, it succeeds, although she already has an idea of what the confession might be about. That address...  
"Okay," Regina simply agrees, reminding herself that it's just breakfast, it doesn't necessarily mean anything, and Locksley is probably just curious. "What do you want to eat? I know a place not far from here."  
"I've already eaten and don't need much, so, wherever you wanna go."  
________________________________________  
The cafe is small and the tables so narrow that if Regina would slouch even the slightest in her seat, her knees would connect with Locksley's. Regina just sips her coffee, eats her turkey sandwich, and listens to the blonde explaining what he's really doing in Miami.  
"My vacation is more of a long-term thing," he says and snatches a few potato chips from Regina's plate.  
Regina has made sure that she doesn't want them and Locksley, who didn't order any food himself, was quick to adopt the stack of fried potato. There's an odd familiarity to it and to make the food sharing easier, Regina has pushed her plate to the middle of the small table.  
"I quit my job and needed a change," Locksley continues. "When I first got here, I didn't really have a plan, but I quite like it here. I was fortunate to find an apartment really quickly. Maybe not in the best neighbourhood but I don't care much about that. As long as I can walk safely on the streets, you know."  
Regina nods and doesn't mention that she does in fact know, because of her little stalking session. She doesn't remember Locksley's exact address, but she knows very well what kind of neighbourhood the blonde lives in. It's not far from her own, after all.  
"I'm looking for a job, actually. Should probably learn some Spanish, too, because sometimes I have no idea of what people are saying and I like to know what's going on around me."  
"Yeah, knowing Spanish is definitely an advantage here," Regina confirms.  
"You seemed to be pretty fluent when you ordered your food," Locksley points out and takes some more chips.  
"My family is Cuban," Regina explains. "I came here when I was six."  
Locksley chews, and nods, and chews, and suddenly smirks.  
"And then you became a trauma surgeon."  
Regina stiffens, feeling caught in a trap she kind of set herself, but then she reminds herself that Locksley is still sitting there, curious for an explanation. He hasn't left. He's not angry. He just wants to understand. Regina swallows down her current bite.  
"Something like that," she affirms and makes an effort to steadily meet Locksley's expectant blue eyes. "I didn't want to ruin your heroic moment."  
Locksley looks clueless, his brows furrowed, so Regina elaborates.  
"At Walmart. You were throwing your titles around and I didn't want to ruin the moment by telling you that I was a doctor, too. Besides, I was pretty embarrassed, anyway. I surely should know how to take care of myself."  
"That's not..." Locksley interjects and cocks his head to the side. "Just because you're a doctor doesn't mean you can't ever be sick or make unhealthy decisions. That's ridiculous logic."  
He puts a potato chip into his mouth, as if to accentuate his point, and shrugs.  
"We're just human like everybody else."  
"I know," Regina sighs. "Some part of me knows that."  
Locksley nods slowly and then narrows his eyes a little.  
"Why did you tell me you didn't like hospitals?" he wonders curiously, taking on a mischievous look. "I must tell you, though, that you were very convincing. With your stuttering and blushing and all that."  
As if on cue Regina's cheeks redden, and for someone who normally doesn't blush this is beginning to feel incredibly silly. She begins to explain, tentatively, but then it's like the dam breaks and the words just pour out. She tells the truth, that she just said the first thing that popped up in her head and never could have imagined that Locksley would offer to go with her to the doctor. She admits to deciding right away that she wouldn't call, because she wasn't going to check anything up and even if she had been, she wouldn't have needed company. She even talks about Chris and how he assumed that he was trying to score a date with her, and then suddenly quiets as she notices the guilty look on Locksley's face.  
"What?" she inquires.  
"Well, you know," Locksley begins hesitantly. "He wasn't entirely wrong, actually..."  
It's the blonde's turn to blush and he takes a swig from his orange juice, using the glass as a barrier between them. All Regina can think of is how hard and fast her heart is beating in her chest. Is there actually a chance? Have they really been having the same intent all along? It seems too good to be true.  
But it's not too good. It's just...true.  
"I'm sorry if you find that offensive or anything. I mean, I still care for your health and would've accompanied you for your appointment either way, but..."  
Locksley trails off and Regina can't stop the smile that spreads on her own face, reaching her eyes in an instant. The connection between them feels stronger than ever and she can only hope that Locksley is feeling it, too.  
"I dreamt about you," she says.  
Locksley's mouth twists into a smirk and he looks notably intrigued by this revelation.  
"You did?"  
"Yep," Regina assures him with a chuckle. "When you showed up in the waiting room I honestly thought I was dreaming again."  
"So that's why you were acting so strange!"  
"Yeah," Regina mumbles and looks down at the table. "I got pretty embarrassed when I realized it was really you, then I didn't get the chance to explain myself because the doctor called my name and, well, you know the rest."  
Locksley is laughing again, a soft, melodic laugh that makes Regina think of angels.  
"You know, at first I thought you were having a panic attack."  
Heat rushes to Regina's cheeks – it seems they are destined to display a semi-permanent hue of red today – and she represses the awkward memory.  
"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," she says with feigned gravity, "but I was rather busy trying not to repeat the Walmart incident."  
Locksley smirks.  
"Yeah, I figured that out after learning your blood pressure. Then, when you seemed to be overly interested in that blood of yours, I began to suspect that not everything was what it seemed."  
"I really am sorry," Regina says earnestly. "Like I said, I never meant for it to get this far."  
"But it did, and here we are."  
It's a fair point. Would they still be here if it wasn't for all of their miscommunications? And Chris' meddling? The silence is deafening and neither of them seems to be in any hurry to break eye contact.  
"Aren't you gonna eat that?" Locksley asks eventually, gesturing toward the half-finished sandwich on Regina's plate.  
Regina is not hungry anymore. In fact, she's having that familiar feeling of slight nausea, which she realizes she forgot to mention to Dr. De La Rosa. She was mainly focusing on her and Locksley's misunderstanding, and the nausea has been present in various – but mild – degrees for such a long time now that it almost feels normal. It's slowly getting worse, though, and she realizes that it may not be because of her poor eating habits lately, after all.  
"No, I think I'm finished," she declares.  
Locksley frowns and gives her a slightly admonishing look.  
"You need to eat."  
"Yes, I know, but I have eaten and I'm full," Regina responds, and she can't quite keep the irritation out of her voice.  
She's so tired of people treating her like she's incapable of taking care of herself. It's not like she's starving, and definitely not on purpose! Locksley doesn't seem to realize that she's treading on dangerous ground.  
"After half a sandwich? You need to stretch you stomach to-"  
"I don't need to do anything!" Regina exclaims in a sudden flare of anger. "Just leave it!"  
Locksley looks notably taken aback by the outburst and Regina's stomach drops. She's ruined it. Great. Fucking perfect. She yelled at her potential date for exactly no reason. Well, for a petty reason. She can feel her dismay as a tight knot in her chest and as tears burning behind her eyes, and she buries her face in her hands with an exasperated sigh.  
"I'm sorry," she mumbles into her palms. "I'm... This..."  
There's suddenly liquid spilling from her eyes and she doesn't want Locksley to see, doesn't want her to know... She's crying. And she feels pathetic. How did everything go downhill so quickly?  
"Excuse me," she says and all but bolts from the table, keeping her gaze averted best she can.  
She stumbles out the door – can't even make a proper retreat! – and stops right outside to steady herself on the cafe wall. Tears are still escaping her eyes and she angrily wipes them away, taking a few deep breaths. It's like she's seven years old and her favourite toy just broke. If she had just apologized like a normal person and explained herself, perhaps everything would've turned out just fine, but now-  
The door opens behind her and she freezes mid-thought. Locksley slowly comes into view, a look of worry and confusion on his face, and Regina determinedly averts her gaze. Now would be a great moment for the Earth to open up and swallow her whole.  
"Hey," Locksley says gently and places a tentative hand on her arm. "I didn't mean to upset you."  
And it's... Unbelievable. The blonde is so unfalteringly understanding that Regina can't help to let out a small laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Except, it comes out more like a sob, and before she knows it, she's wrapped up in a pair of strong arms. Her mind practically goes blank and races at the same time, but she wants to say something, wants to explain, to apologize.  
"I'm such a mess," she mumbles dejectedly, her mouth so close to Locksley's shoulder that her lips almost brush against it as she speaks.  
She sniffs a little to clear her nose, definitely feeling like she's seven again, and Locksley's sweet scent suddenly attacks her senses. It's intoxicating, and it's everywhere. They're so close and Regina's dreams doesn't even compare to reality.  
"That's okay," Locksley says lightly and just...holds her.  
Their proximity doesn't seem to faze the blonde at all and neither does Regina's recent little meltdown. Perhaps it's just Regina who needs to chill out and pull herself together. Perhaps-  
"I'm not normally like this," she says apologetically. "It's just that... Lately I've been..."  
She searches for the right words but Locksley leans back from the embrace, enough to look her in the eyes, and interrupts.  
"It's okay," he insists, and wipes a stray tear away from Regina's jaw. "We're gonna figure out what's going on with you, fix it, and then we can have a proper argument. Alright?"  
He smirks and there's a mischievous glint in his eye. Regina smiles back but suddenly doesn't quite know where to look, so she's mostly relieved – and just a little disappointed – when Locksley lets go of her. They're still standing pretty close, after all, Regina reasons with herself.  
"Shall we go back inside and grab your purse before anyone else does?" Locksley says half-jokingly.  
Right, Regina's purse still standing by the foot of her chair. She dries the remainder of her tears best she can before they re-enter the cafe. The owner, Marco – whom Regina is acquainted with from earlier visits – looks up from the counter and immediately hauls a bunch of questions at them. In Spanish, though, so Locksley gives Regina an uncertain look.  
"It's fine," Regina assures him before switching language and turning to Marco. "No, no trouble, we're good. Sorry for causing a scene. I'm just having a rough day. And no, he doesn't speak Spanish, but he's thinking of learning to."  
"I'm glad to hear, and I hope your day gets better," Marco replies and points briefly at her. "You could teach him."  
Regina chuckles and smiles as she makes a half-hearted attempt to shake her head. It's not such a bad idea, actually, but she doesn't know if Locksley would be interested. And, another important detail, when would she have time to give lessons?  
"We'll see," she says noncommittally and reaches down to pick up her purse.  
When she straightens again, Locksley is stuffing his mouth with the abandoned turkey sandwich. Regina's brows furrow in surprise.  
"Oh, I'm sowwy," Cameron mumbles around his mouthful and hurries to chew up and swallow. "Did you want this, after all?"  
"No, go ahead," Regina says, a faint smile appearing on her face. "But I thought you said you'd already eaten?"  
"Yeah, but I simply can't let you leave this much. It'd be rude."  
Locksley grins to ensure Regina that he's only joking and takes another bite of the sandwich.  
"It's good."  
Somehow he manages to talk with food in his mouth and still look amazing.  
"We can sit down again, if you want to," she offers the blonde, although she'd rather just get out of there.  
"Nah, let's head back, I can eat while we walk. Multitasking, you know," Locksley replies with a smirk.  
________________________________________  
They get back to the clinic way too quickly for Regina's liking, despite keeping a slow pace, but neither of them seems to be in a hurry to leave. They linger in the parking lot, not wanting to say goodbye just yet.  
"What did you and the cafe guy talk about?" Locksley asks, trying to make conversion. "I only caught español."  
"Yeah, he wondered if you speak Spanish," Regina replies, then hesitates for a moment before continuing. "When I said you didn't, but wanted to learn, he suggested I could teach you."  
She concludes that telling Locksley was indeed the right decision when the blonde immediately lightens up.  
"That's a great idea! If you want to, I mean. I've been thinking of taking an online course but it'd be great to have someone who knows the language to practise with, as well."  
"Yeah, that's always helpful," Regina agrees. "I work a lot, as you know, but I'm sure I would be able to find time to practise with you."  
If not, she will bloody make time. After all the doubts and trouble, she's been dealing with to get to this point, she's not letting any opportunities to get to know Locksley go to waste.  
"Great!" the younger man says with a big smile and shifts closer. "I guess...we'll keep in touch then?"  
In touch. Memories from when they met at Walmart flashes through Regina's mind. Very good hands... Will take good care of me... They're quite nimble, actually...  
"Yeah, absolutely," she agrees and puts on a smile matching Locksley's, hoping that the blonde isn't able to read her thoughts.  
They do a little awkward dance – what is actually the most convenient way to say goodbye in their situation? – before going for a hug.  
Regina doesn't want it to end. She's glad when Locksley doesn't retreat immediately and allows himself to melt into the embrace for a little while, but they can't stand like that forever, now can they? Reluctantly, she eventually loosens her grip of the man, and they slowly detangle from each other. Light eyes search out darker ones and Regina fails to stop her tongue from darting out to wet her lips as their gazes meet. Subtle. Locksley hesitates.  
"Uhm," he says and takes a half step back, awkwardly scratching his neck. "So, will you give me a call when you get the blood work results? You don't have to, of course, it's entirely up to you, but, uh..."  
"I'll call," Regina assures him.  
It's the first time she sees Locksley display some sort of insecurity, really, and she finds it rather endearing. For a while there, she almost thought the man was superhuman. The change makes herself a little bolder.  
"And I'll tell you all the results in Spanish, so you better get started with that online course," she adds with a wink.  
The teasing helps to ease the awkward tension between them and Locksley grins, back to his old confident self.  
"Got it!" he says, playing along, and his voice drops a few notes. "I'll be waiting for that call."  
This time Regina isn't fooling herself. She will call and she will do it without any involvement of stupid lies, misunderstandings, or 'help' from Chris. She just needs the results.  



	5. 5

Chapter 5: Locksley, Locksley, Locksley?Chapter Text  
Locksley, Locksley, Locksley  
Regina wakes up with a throb between her legs. The nausea from before is subdued and she feels surprisingly rejuvenated. Making magic, huh? Yeah, sure, whatever her dream self wants to call it. But 'magic' was not what she and Locksley decided to practise, because that was indeed Spanish and nothing else. However, she's not been in the mood much lately, so in a way it actually is a bit magical. A quick glance at her alarm clock informs her that there's plenty of time before she needs to get up.  
Time she spends well.  
She arrives at work still in a daze and her colleagues quickly notice the change.  
"Your appointment today went well, I take it?"  
"Hm?" Regina says distractedly and looks up at Proctor.  
"You seem to be in a better mood than usual so I figured you'd received some good news."  
"Oh. Yeah, I am, but no good news, I'm afraid. I've just had a nice day."  
"No, Regina, you didn't," Chris cuts into the conversation and gives her a look of pretend disapproval.  
"I didn't what?" she questions, frowning confusedly. "Have a nice day?"  
"Not on the first date. That's my thing."  
"Chris, what on Earth are you talking about?"  
He gives her a suggestive look and smirks mischievously, glancing briefly at Proctor before replying.  
"I think that someone decided to bring a certain other someone to the doc, after all, and then things happened."  
She gets it, then, not a moment too soon.  
"Chris!" she hisses in exasperation, but he just snickers and shakes his head.  
"Well, it was meant as a joke, but I must say that you look pretty guilty."  
Sure as hell she looks guilty, considering what she was doing just a couple of hours ago.  
"I don't!" she protests. "And I'm not. Even if I was, that's not something I'd like to discuss at work!"  
Or anywhere, really.  
"Alright, fair enough," Chris agrees. "But something happened, I can tell. You're way too happy for just beginning a twelve-hour night shift."  
She blushes, and by now she's really starting to sympathize with Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and his troubles. Chris is right. She's been tired and cranky during most of the night shifts lately and tonight she's displaying none of that. Not yet, anyway. Eleven and a half hour left to go.  
"Maybe he did come with me to the doc," Regina murmurs, suppressing a smile. "Maybe we went for breakfast together afterwards and maybe, just maybe, I agreed to help him learn Spanish."  
"That's a lot of maybes," Chris points out teasingly.  
Regina's expression darkens and she lets out a tired sigh. Her good mood won't last for long under these circumstances.  
"Hey, you know that I'm just messing with you, right?" Chris says then, suddenly earnest. "It sounds great, honestly. I'm happy for you."  
"You're impossible," Regina complains, but there's affection in her voice.  
"Yeah, but I'm also awesome," Chris grins in response.  
She rolls her eyes at him and smiles, despite herself. She's glad he's taking this thing with Locksley so well. She feels as if she really can talk to him about it, about almost anything, and that's something she greatly values in a friend. That's what makes him amazing, more than anything else.  
________________________________________  
Regina thinks about Locksley, a lot. Whenever there's a not so busy moment at work, and most of the time outside of work. There are no signs of any blood work results but Regina contemplates sending a text or something to the blonde, anyway, just to make conversation. Every time she gets an incoming call or message, she hopes it'll be from Locksley. It's silly, really, but apparently, you're never older than fifteen when it comes to this sort of things.  
Then, late Saturday morning, Regina actually gets a text from Locksley. She sees it at lunch – because of course she needs to check her phone several times a day nowadays – and can't help the smile that spreads on her face.

She doesn't have time to write a lengthy reply but she can impossibly wait until later to respond. Serena raises her brows and gives Regina a meaningful look from where she's seated across the table.  
"Don't try to pretend you're not glued to your phone some days," Regina says defensively.  
"I didn't say anything," Serena smirks.  
Yeah, well, Regina knows what she was thinking. She shifts focus to her phone again and smiles to herself as she starts typing her reply. Honestly, she doesn't care what her colleagues think. They can think whatever they want.  
She takes a bite of her chicken salad and shifts her attention to Serena and Tuck's conversation. They are talking about their busy mornings. After only a couple of minutes Regina's phone buzzes.  
"I approve," Serena comments suddenly. "He's quick to reply."  
"Yeah, unlike-" Regina begins, but is interrupted by their pagers beeping.  
They all sigh in unison.  
"Unlike me," Regina mutters and hopes that she'll have time to reply before the evening, at least.  
Hope doesn't get her very far, though. There's been a plane crash and they have a lot of people coming in. Adding the fact that it's Saturday, they stay busy until well past midnight. Not that she's free to go home then, no, she's on a lovely 24-hour shift. But she gets a break long enough to eat something and send an apologetic text to Locksley.  
Regina smiles, but it's a tired smile, and she heads toward her on-call room. She would never voluntarily stay up this late herself, not with her current health issues, but of course Locksley is still awake. He doesn't have work to worry about. Regina wishes she didn't, either.  
Just as her hand reaches the door handle, her pager beeps, and she stills, slowly closing her eyes. Most of all she just feels like dropping down on the floor and cry, but people need her. They really need her. So she pulls herself together, checks the message, and takes off in a hurried pace. One of her patients is turning critical again.  
________________________________________  
She sleeps through most of the Sunday, but doesn't feel particularly well rested when her alarm forces her awake her in the late afternoon. Another night shift is awaiting.  
It's not too bad, though. She manages alright. She's just utterly exhausted when she finally gets off duty Monday morning. Traffic is as unpleasant as ever, practically everyone is driving to work. An extra pair of eyes wouldn't have hurt. Then there's a loud bang and she can't breathe.  
Her face is a bit numb and there's dust and smoke in the car from the airbag that apparently has deployed, but that's not the main reason why she can't breathe. She looks down at herself and her hands fly to her chest, but everything looks and feels okay. She's not in much pain, not her chest anyway. She just got the wind knocked out of herself, she thinks, feeling somewhat relieved. But what if someone else is hurt?  
She exits her car on shaky legs and it looks like there are three cars involved. The one she drove into, her own, and someone behind her who didn't brake quickly enough. Regina doesn't recall the collision itself, or the moments leading up to it, but she's pretty sure she didn't fell asleep at the wheel. If she had been that tired she would've called for a cab instead of driving herself. But it may still be her fault. She doesn't know, it all happened so quickly.  
A man approaches, gesticulating angrily toward her.  
"¡Cabrona, hija de puta! ¿Por qué no te fijas?"  
"Is anyone hurt?" Regina asks, not really listening to whatever insults he's firing at her.  
"¡Estupida mujer inglesa!"  
It finally sinks in to her which language he's speaking and she tries again, glancing worriedly toward the wrecked backseat door of his car.  
"Is anyone hurt? Were you alone in the car?"  
"Yes, I was alone, and I'm fine. But my car is ruined now, thanks to you! And I'm gonna be late for work!"  
He's fine.  
"Okay, wait here," Regina instructs and turns around toward the third car.  
The driver, a woman, and two kids are still sitting inside, but their car only has a small dent on its front bumper and they mostly look startled. Regina walks over to them and the driver seat windrow goes down.  
"I'm sorry! I was driving too close. Are you okay? Is he okay?"  
The woman nods in the direction of the aggravated man, who is now on the phone with someone. Right, Regina should call a tow truck. And someone to drive her home. She's fairly close to her apartment but not really in the mood for walking.  
"Yeah, I think we're both pretty okay, thankfully," she says and gives the small family a reassuring smile. "How are you and your kids?"  
"Thank God. We're fine, too, just got a little scared."  
Although the damage is minor and probably not Regina's fault, she and the woman exchange numbers, just in case. She also insists that they must call their doctor if they develop any back or neck pain, headaches, or any symptoms, really. She stresses the importance of this.  
As they drive away, carefully, Regina pulls up her phone – which has survived this, too – and finds a tow truck company to call. Then she gives the same instructions to the man as she gave to the small family and exchange contact information with him, too. He seems to have calmed down.  
"I will. And don't forget yourself, I think you and your car took the worst hit," he says, almost sympathetically. "Do you have insurance?"  
"Yes. My car will most certainly be totalled," she says with a sigh.  
He gives it a look and nods.  
"Probably. So, do we agree on what happened?"  
She doesn't want to argue but she's looked around by now and the signs clearly say he should've given way to her. She chastises herself for not asking any of the witnesses while she had the chance, but is glad that she at least got the third driver's number. She can call her and ask if she saw what happened.  
"That depends on what your story is," she declares.  
"Well, obviously you drove into me."  
"Yeah, that's...that's not necessarily how it works," she begins but is suddenly overcome with nausea and has to turn away.  
So, now what? She's managed to get a concussion? Perhaps it's just her normal nausea combined with stress, she thinks hopefully. She does still feel pretty shaken up by the whole experience. She'll just have to see if it passes.  
"Are you sure you're okay?" the man asks. "You look pretty pale."  
Well, so people say.  
"I'll be alright," she assures him and tries to swallow her sickness away. "But if you don't mind, maybe we don't need to have this discussion right now? I've been up working all night, and now this..."  
"Yeah, okay," he agrees reluctantly. "I need to get to work anyway. Oh, here comes my tow truck!"  
________________________________________

"Hey, Regina. What's...uh..." Locksley says sluggishly, his voice hoarse from sleep.  
Right, it's barely eight in the morning.  
"I'm sorry, did I wake you up? I didn't think-"  
"No! Well, yes, but it's alright. How are you?"  
"I just watched my car get towed," Regina sighs.  
"What?" Locksley exclaims, sounding very awake all of a sudden. "Are you okay? What happened?"  
"I drove into someone on my way home from work and... I did everything wrong, didn't call the police or anything. I was just too focused on finding out if anyone was injured. And I think I have a concussion or something, I'm not feeling too great."  
Regina buries her face in her hands. The nausea has only increased and of all her days with exhaustion and dizziness, this is certainly the worst. She's still trembling slightly – from the adrenaline rush, she figures – and her heart rate won't come down, plus, her head is starting to hurt.  
"Oh, no... Right back to the hospital then, I guess?"  
It's a half-hearted attempt at a joke but Regina smiles weakly anyway.  
"Yeah..."  
Not quite trusting her legs she sits down on the sidewalk. She can't spot any nearby benches so this'll have to do, and she doesn't care about germs or dried in dog – or human, for that matter – urine as she leans back toward the building behind her.  
"Do you have anyone who can drive you?"  
"I was thinking, uh... I'm in your neighbourhood, so maybe..."  
It's awkward. And she has trouble finding the right words.  
"But, Regina, I haven't told you where I live," Cameron says, sounding concerned.  
Or does he sound alarmed? Wary? Cautious? What if he refuses to help? What if he hangs up before Regina can explain? What if-  
"Wait, wait, I... I can explain. I..."  
"Regina, listen to me. Where are you?"  
Well, she read the street name just a few minutes ago. Unfortunately, she can't remember what it said.  
"I, uh..."  
She hears rustling on the other end of the line as she squints and tries to read the sign again, but the letters blur together.  
"I can't read the sign," she says, dismayed. "Do you know the restaurant with the...uh...weird statues?"  
"Yes!" Locksley basically shouts, and it echoes as if he's in a stairwell.  
Which he probably is, judging by the background staccato of shoes against stone.  
"I'll be there before you know it. Keep talking to me," he orders.  
"Thank you," Regina breathes out.  
It's a relief, but a relief that doesn't last for long. She suddenly feels very sick. Very sick.  
"Regina? I said, keep talking to me. How are-"  
But Regina can't talk. She can only try to put her phone away gently as she bends over to the side and heaves her half-digested breakfast out on the sidewalk for everyone to see.  
"Eww!"  
"Jesus."  
"What a disgrace."  
She can't determine who says what but people aren't pleased by the display and suddenly keep their distance as if she's contagious. Which, of course, they can't know for sure that she isn't.  
Once she's started vomiting, it's hard to stop, she learns. When her stomach is empty she keeps dry heaving for a while, and though it happens less and less frequently, the nausea persists.  
"Hey, señorita!"  
For a second she thinks it's someone who actually wants to help, but it appears the older woman just wants her gone.  
"Do you mind moving? You're keeping customers from my coffee shop."  
Does she mind? Is the woman seriously suggesting her to move in this state? Can't she see she's in trouble? Why is nobody helping her?  
"Is that your phone? Can I call someone?"  
So, she actually is willing to help a little. Regina nods weakly, remembering Locksley, and wonders when the blonde will arrive. The older woman picks up the phone, then there's a slight screech from tires and Regina's visual field fills with a vehicle.  
"Oh God, Regina!"  
Locksley kneels down at Regina's uncontaminated side and wraps his arms around her.  
"There, I've got you," he says, rubbing her back soothingly. "Thank God I knew that restaurant. How could the others just leave you like this?"  
He gives the older woman an accusing glare, as if it's all her fault.  
"I was fine," Regina slurs out, slowly shaking her head.  
"Well, you're clearly not fine now," Locksley declares and puts his phone to his ear, seemingly from nowhere. "Yeah, I've found her. Are you still there?"  
He scrutinizes Regina with narrowed eyes, puts two fingers to her pulse point, and frowns.  
"This does somehow not feel like a simple concussion."  
Regina is grateful for the arm that the blonde keeps around her, holding her in place. She's weaker than she's ever been and silently agrees with Locksley, it doesn't feel like a simple concussion. Frankly, she feels as if her whole body is shutting down. Her eyes keep drooping closed and she lets her head rest against the younger man's shoulder. She doesn't listen too closely but catches fragments of the conversation.  
"...the intersect...been vomiting...rapid but weak pulse...very pale...yes, she's conscious but- Regina? Regina?"  
Regina forces her eyes open.  
"Hm?"  
"When's your birthday?"  
"What?"  
"Your birthdate. When were you born?"  
"I..."  
She should remember, right? But she doesn't.  
"What colour was the other car, in the accident?"  
Like she would even memorise that?  
"How many fingers am I holding up?"  
Way too many.  
Regina shakes her head with feeble movements. Locksley is asking far too many questions and there's that never-ending nausea which refuses to-  
She makes a futile attempt to move away before her stomach flips and empties itself of what small amounts of gastric acid it has managed to produce since the last time she threw up.  
Locksley gasps. Regina is very sorry.  
"Crap! Ah, well, she threw up again. And she's not really answering any of my questions. Will you tell the ambulance driver to fucking hurry?"  
There's a short pause before Locksley speaks again, this time more aggravated.  
"No, I'm not gonna calm down. Don't you fucking tell me to calm down! Where the fuck is the ambulance?!"  
Regina manages to move her incredibly heavy arms to give the upset blonde a small squeeze. Locksley holds her tighter in response and checks her pulse again.  
"Regina, I need you to lay down, you shouldn't be sitting up. Can you do that?"  
"Mm..."  
No.  
But Locksley doesn't let go of her, he gently eases her to the ground and puts a piece of clothing under her head.  
"You'll be okay," he says softly. "I'm going through every possible condition in my head and I'm gonna figure it out. I've learned from the best. I'm gonna figure it out."  
Then he briefly stops talking.  
"Do you hear that?"  
And Regina does hear. The ambulance. Within a couple of minutes she can also hear the hustle and bustle from the paramedics, and eventually Locksley's distressed voice above it all.  
"I'm a doctor! And I know her medical background!"  
"I'm sorry, but it's either in the front or you'll have to drive there yourself."  
"But I'm helping you! I'm helping her!"  
"Right now, you're mostly in the way, please move aside."  
Regina wants to yell at them to allow Locksley with her in the ambulance. The blonde is supposed to make everything okay, he promised, and he's always succeeded before. A lot of those times have been in her dreams, but still. It feels as good as real.  
A car door slams shut and there's the familiar sound of a siren screeching to life. Regina should sit up straight and demand... But she can barely even move her hands and the noises that erupt from her throat don't convey what she's trying to say at all.  
"Nnnnnng...nnnng..."  
It's not just that she can't talk, the sound is also muffled by something. There's something on her face.  
"What's happening? Is she having a seizure?" she hears one of the paramedics ask, alarmed.  
"No, she's been shivering like this the whole time," another replies. "I think she's trying to say something. Hey! Um...Regina! You're in the ambulance and we're doing everything we can to make you feel better, okay? Everything is gonna be fine. Can you hear me?"  
There's still nothing wrong with her hearing but she obviously can't reply. She can only hope that they'll find out what's wrong before it's too late.  
"Regina?"  
"Her vitals keep falling."  
"Yeah, I think she's gone again. Have you found any visible trauma?"  
"She has plenty of bruises. A lot of them look old but there might be internal bleeding. I'm worried about how fast she's declining."  
"Me too. But if not internal bleeding, what else could it be? Have you checked her glucose?"  
"I'll do it now. Her friend said something about a possible coexisting endocrine condition. There was suspicion of hyperkalaemia."  
"Hmm, now that you mention it... Don't those T waves look peaked to you?"  
The paramedics keep talking to each other and Regina appreciates to know what's going on. Especially since she's losing her other senses, including those of space and time, but it's beginning to get foggier. She manages to catch that her blood sugar is low and that they have trouble drawing blood from her, but apparently, they get enough to find out that her electrolytes are out of whack.  
If they are treating her it doesn't feel like it's working, and after what feels like an eternity of slipping further into unconsciousness there are suddenly other voices present. Many voices. They all blend together.  
She's having trouble breathing. The air exits her lungs but won't come back in. Every breath feels like her last.  
And she knows.  
With the machines beeping frantically around her, she knows.  
It's over.  
________________________________________  
I woke up to a whole new me  
Wondered how this could be  
Happy soul and happy face  
Girl, I really love this place  
No one but me will ever know  
How you make me feel high and low  
It's not for anyone else to see  
Cause in the end there's only me  
Thinking of the things you've said  
Listening to the songs in my head  
Feels like butterflies under shining sun  
I thank you for the things you've done  
________________________________________  
Slowly, Regina's senses are returning.  
"Looks like it's working," someone says.  
"Indeed it does. Keep monitoring her," says another.  
She manages to open her eyes and take in her surroundings. She's not dead. However, when she tries to swallow, she gags on something blocking her throat and panics for a moment.  
"Just relax and try to breathe with it," a nurse tells her. "We had to intubate you, but it's only temporary."  
What's wrong with her? Why is she on the vent? Where is Locksley? Regina has so many questions but she can't voice any of them and decides right there and then that she hates intubation. All her previously intubated patients have her sympathy, more so now than before.  
As life continues to return to her in a steady pace, she wishes that someone could just explain what's going on.  
"It appears you had an acute adrenal crisis," the nurse says then. "We're going to need to do a few more tests to determine what caused it, but you probably have your friend to thank for your life."  
Locksley? Regina forgets for a moment that she can't speak and gags again when she tries.  
"I know, I know," the nurse soothes and turns to exchange a few words with another nurse before turning back toward Regina. "Let's remove this thing. Cough, please."  
It's not pleasant and her throat is somewhat sore, but that's a rather small price to pay, after all. With the tube gone she can move her head more freely and quickly scans the room of any sign of Locksley. There's none.  
"Is Locksley here?" she croaks out.  
The last thing she remembers of the blonde is him arguing with the paramedics to ride in the ambulance.  
"Your friend?" the nurse wonders with a smirk. "Yeah, he was the one insisting your adrenals had given up. I doubt he's left, unless he was forced. But that's unusual."  
So, he did ride in the ambulance, just not in the back. Either that, or his car has super powers. Wait, forced?  
"Can I see him?"  
The nurse looks at his colleague for confirmation.  
"I'll go see if I can find him," she offers. "He could probably use some good news."  
The nurses share a knowing look and Regina feels as if she's missing something. Of course Locksley could use some good news? His...friend almost died! Not that they are friends, really. They are just starting to get to know each other, and now they'll hopefully get to continue with that.  
"He didn't take getting directed to the waiting room very well," the remaining nurse explains, seeing Regina's confusion.  
"Oh."  
"How are you feeling now?"  
"Much better," Regina replies with a small sigh. "But I do still have a headache and I won't lie, I feel like I've been to hell and back."  
"I can imagine. We're gonna keep an eye on your head but you should be fine with rest. Regarding your adrenals, we'll have to see what the tests say."  
Regina nods.  
"My hand hurts, too," she adds after a while, holding it up for the nurse to inspect.  
"Yeah? Does this hurt?"  
He puts pressure beside a bruise and Regina gasps at the sharp pain shooting through her hand. The monitors register her distress, there's no lying.  
"Well, I guess we'll have to get some pictures of it."  
"No, it... It can't be broken. I need both my hands for work!"  
"Let's hope for the best, then. But, you know, you won't be going back to work within the next few days, anyway."  
She knows, and she's trying not to think about it. What if she can never work again? Never ever? Well, that kind of catastrophic thinking won't make her feel any better. What does make her feel better is Locksley entering the room, red eyes, red nose, but with a relieved smile on his face. When he reaches Regina, he lets out a faint chuckle.  
"We gotta stop meeting like this."  
"Like this?" Regina questions, her brows raised.  
"With you in an involuntary horizontal position. Does gravitation somehow affect you differently or...?" Locksley says jokingly and Regina can't help but smile.  
"Yeah, well, this wasn't what I had in mind for a second date."  
It's out before she can think twice about it and there's a sudden change in the atmosphere around them. Regina practically holds her breath as Locksley looks her deeply in the eyes, and the nurses keep conveniently busy. Not that they weren't before, but still.  
"Me neither," Locksley agrees. "But I can improvise. After all, the most important thing to me isn't what we do, but that we do it together. So, um..."  
He suddenly looks self-conscious and Regina smirks mischievously.  
"Mm, sorry, but there's no room left on this bed and I'm not sharing my IV fluids."  
Locksley laughs softly.  
"It's okay, I'll just find a chair."  
He does, and he stays. He calls Regina's dad and Chris to inform them about what's happened. He jokes about trivialities. Regina learns that her hand is indeed broken, and that her body for some reason is destroying the outer layer of her adrenals, causing primary adrenal insufficiency. Addison's disease. It's very rare to begin with and she's one of the handful of people who doesn't have the most characteristic symptom, hyperpigmentation. That's why neither she nor anyone else ever thought of it.  
Except Locksley. Of course, the immunologist.  
What would've happened if Regina hadn't met Locksley when she did? Would she have died today? They'll never know. And they don't need to know, they're not living in the past.  
They look forward.


End file.
